Lite Me Ablaze
by thanatopis
Summary: "Demanding little boy you are."


"Well isn't _this_ quite the predicament the little Thunderer has gotten himself into?" Loki teases from the doorway of Thor's chambers.

A sly grin had been on the Trickster's face since a maiden had summoned him at the disposal of Thor's command. It had followed him throughout the palace halls, earning curious looks from the servants and maidens alike that had become accustom to the leers and glares—rumored apparently—to be plastered permanently to his regal features.

Loki has a small inkling of why Thor demands of him so urgently. _Amora_—usually the only reason Thor ever seems to seek him out anymore, is when the Enchantress makes ideal of her many scorned threats.

Amora was always very—_temperamental _when upset and Thor always seemed to fall under her frivolous tricks whenever he denied her advances on to him. It was amusing nonetheless to watch it play through, Loki thought. How Amora would flush with both anger and embarrassment whenever Thor rebuffed her and Loki would laugh—laugh tauntingly at her pathetic—feeble attempts to possess his brother—for little did _anyone_ know Thor was _his_.

A small child (well, for Thor's previous—brutish size) sits motionless on the edge of his bed, clothed only in a loose tunic much too big for his humble—small body, as the flimsy neck of the tunic falls from his shoulders.

Thor's head is nestled snuggly between his thighs, clenching his fingers tightly in his long wavy locks that Loki notices, sport a braid on the side as Thor's hair did in their youth.

Loki unabashedly laughs, ignoring the piercing glare he earns from Thor as he reluctantly lifts his head to show such young, vibrant looking electric blue eyes.

"Have care Loki." Thor half mumbles, half threats, and it falls on deaf ears, as Thor's threats always have.

Thor's voice is noticeably different as well, reminding Loki of a cross between a baby blue jay and a lion's cub—a strange mix he ponders—but does not question it—for it is simply Thor and that is enough of an answer.

Thor heaves a heavy breath, flinging himself back on the bed with a _thump_, and Loki chuckles, running a slender hand through his hair as he sits noiselessly on the corner of the bed, grabbing Thor's thin ankle. Thor shivers as Loki snuggly encloses his fingers one by one around the bone, tugging him roughly towards the edge.

"Dear brother, who has done this to you?" Loki asks sweetly—mockingly, as he lifts Thor's leg in the air, bending it at the knee and observing the new flesh.

It's odd to Loki to see his brother so frail and small—not that he was in youth—_no_—Thor was the strongest, bravest boy Loki had ever known—but now it was _different_ and that knowledge sends pleasant shivers slowly down his spine, stroking him into awareness.

As if on cue, Thor regards him irritably through the fringe of his honeyed bangs, eyes calculating and inquiring, and Thor immediately blushes at what he finds.

Loki, well aware of his doings, clicks his teeth in mock disapproval, face spitting into a lecherous grin. He cannot help but to notice how beautiful Thor looks, right in between the cusp of manhood and youth, hard lines mixed with soft curves, and it highly intrigues him in a way that is far from innocent.

Loki bites his bottom lip.

"Despite popular belief brother, I am not the only one in Asgard good at playing tricks."

Frowning, Thor turns his head, ruby red blush still spreading over his plump cheeks as Loki intently stares down at him with eyes as vibrant as summer.

"Yes, but there is no one in all of Asgard that enjoys it as much as _you_." Thor says faintly, pout etching across his lips.

Silence settles over them, and Thor suddenly becomes extremely conscious of Loki—how his slender, coaxing fingers teasingly run up the back of his leg, only to go back down again with blunt nails scraping over the back of his calf.

"Loki…" Thor whines, eyelids fluttering open and close.

Thor cannot help the slight unconscious part of his legs as Loki languidly messages his calf, decadent fingers working the tense muscle, as another hand finds its way to his thigh, running his fingertips teasing up and down the length of the sensitive skin.

Thor muffles a groan, feeling his cock immediately rouse in interest, and he cannot stop the roll of his hips as Loki, for a fleeting second, brushes his hand against his balls and perineum.

"So _soft_—there's no inch of hair on you—" Loki takes his fingers and rests them fleetingly on Thor's hips, tracing patterns absentmindedly on his skin. "—Just like a maiden Thor—supple and sleek... Would you like to be treated as one brother? Put under me—begging for me shamelessly—pleading with your eyes to give it to you nice and hard like you know one no else can—" Loki says, almost as if in a daze, and Thor gulps.

"Loki this is not for your entertainment." Thor breathes out, heart beating in a frenzy.

Thor clutches Loki's hand in a tense vice grip that does not rival Loki's own strength, so it is a surprise to Thor when he allows the hold—welcomes it even, as he intertwines their fingers together, bringing it up over Thor's head.

"Oh, of course not brother," Loki entails, moving further up the bed with a sly smile plastered on his face. Loki's lithe body— which now hovers over Thor's—works itself into the alluring space between his brother's thighs and pensively, Loki claims the space forever his own. "But you see Thor—I do what I want, and right now I want _so many things_—"

Loki, for a brief moment, grinds his hips down harshly against Thor's own, and Thor tightly shuts his eyes at the sinful images and sudden arousal that sets his blood ablaze. Sensuously washing over all his sensitive areas—his cock—his nipples—his…

"Loki—_please_—" Thor brokenly whispers, clutching desperately at Loki's shoulder.

"I want you to know what it feels like when I pound my cock into your ass until your loose dripping with my come—"

"I want to feel you stretch around me—that tight, hot, virgin ass— pleading for me—for more. I want you on your knees—ass up—cock dripping, dangling in between your legs—losing your very mind because of the pleasure _just_ my cock can bring—" Loki hotly breathes into his ear, and Thor can tell that his words are affecting not only him, but Loki as well. The hard press against his thigh indicates as much, and Thor wantonly rubs himself against the bulge, highly satisfied by the hiss that works its way out of Loki's mouth.

"—And I can Thor—I can give you pleasure like never before—I can make you _delirious_ with it." Thor knows he can, and he wants it—wants it always.

"Loki," Thor sighs, bringing a small hand up to cradle his cheek, tracing the high cheekbone with his thumb, and Loki guides it to his mouth, sucking lewdly on each finger.

"You're so crude brother." Thor moans, feeling himself burn all the brighter and hotter, groaning at the press of Loki's wet, torrid tongue.

Loki just smiles around his fingers, sucking them enthusiastically into his mouth, creating a chorus of obscene noises, murmuring, "But you like it Thor, you _love_ my crude, vulgar, _filthy_ mouth."

Thor whines high in his throat as Loki ruggedly thrusts his hips down into Thor's, tantalizingly catching the curve of his cock, and he startles off the bed searching for more—_give me more_, and Loki does just that.

Rutting into him hard and fast, Thor shucks up the bed with their movements, putting one hand above him on the headboard, Thor gains more leverage to rock his body into the delicious friction. Loki, in a blur of limbs, finally removes the oversized shirt, leaving Thor in nothing.

Loki's eyes gleam with pure hot arousal that leaves Thor writhing and at a loss for words.

He attentively focuses in on Thor's plump, pink nipples, hard with blood and standing straight up in attention. Loki pinches both of them with his thumb and forefinger, twisting and pulling the skin this way and that, leaving Thor rocketing up off the bed.

"AHH—aaahh—mmn—" Thor twist and turns erratically, begging for nothing and everything all at once, and Loki molds his fingers to Thor's chest, squeezing and teasing the skin.

"_Oh Thor_—you look—you look—" Loki stops as Thor suddenly works to remove his clothing, tearing at the buckles and snaps at a frenzied pace, and Loki rocks back on his knees, bringing one of Thor's legs up and grinding his cock against the seam of his ass, watching him with an amused demeanor.

"Demanding little boy you are." Loki says breathlessly, intentionally working his hips in slow circles that sometimes have Thor doubling over in a groan.

"It calls for the occasion."


End file.
